


What's Hidden From Me

by Wolfheart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Spoilers, Panic Attacks, Season/Series 03, Slow Build, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfheart/pseuds/Wolfheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a look here, a touch there. This had been going on for weeks. It really shouldn't have taken Scott this long to notice what was happening between him and Isaac. Unfortunately, it took Scott even longer to realize what it meant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Hidden From Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is a slow build, scisaac fic with mentions and references to past scallison. Also, there's sterek in the background if you squint.
> 
> This generally takes place in Teen Wolf season 3, so keep this in mind because there are some spoilers to that season.
> 
> I cannot believe this turned out to be as long as it is! Wow! This has a LOT of domestic themes! It was actually supposed to be a lot fluffier than it is, but of course I ended up writing a lot of angst into it too. I can't help myself, guys! I LIKE THE ANGST :P
> 
> Hope you like it~  
> :')

“Mr. McCall, what is the definition of recondite?”

Scott’s attention snapped up. He turned to face her and searched his brain for the answer. However, he couldn’t find one. He offered slowly, “It’s an adjective. It means...”

If she had said it earlier, Scott hadn’t been paying attention. His attention had been preoccupied with the curly-haired teen beside him. The last class of the day dragged, and Scott had spaced out. Yes, he had been trying to get his life together, but everyone had these kinds of days. His eyes had roamed the classroom from the clock on the wall to the smudged words on the edges of the chalkboard that weren’t quite erased to finally settling on Isaac. Well, Isaac’s eyes more specifically.

Scott had decided that their color resembled the backdrop to an upcoming storm. They were light like mist, a soft blue with a tinge of gray. It was more than just the color, but Isaac himself seeped into them. They were like roaming clouds and only time would tell whether or not a gentle drizzle would patter down through the world or a violent storm would crash through complete with harsh winds and wicked lightning. That’s what Isaac’s werewolf eyes reminded Scott of. Cutouts of lightning condensed down and nearly uncontainable as they’d spark yellow and electrified.

There wasn’t a storm today. Isaac had been sitting back in his desk chair by the large window that covered one side of the classroom. He twirled a pen in his hand as he stared with little interest towards the front of the room while the teacher gave a lecture that Scott admittedly hadn’t been listening to either. No bitterness or negativity shadowed Isaac’s eyes though. They remained light like vapor, and the sunlight which poured through the window reflected in his eyes like they didn’t want to miss any bits of cloud to shine through.

It hadn’t been much longer that Isaac turned towards him whenever Scott’s attention didn’t redirect itself. Isaac blinked at him in a silent question, but Scott just grinned happily back at him. That’s what he felt, so that’s what he showed. It was as simple as that, and Scott didn’t think anything of it even when the teacher had interrupted.

“It’s derived from the Latin word _reconditus_ , which means hidden away or concealed,” she answered instead with an annoyed sigh. “It’s abstruse. Difficult, even. It’s something that’s hard to understand and might require special knowledge or insight before it can be understood. Now, please pay attention, Mr. McCall. Fifteen more minutes won’t kill you.”

Scott wasn’t sure how or when it happened. Somewhere between trying to stop the Darach and the alpha pack, something had occurred between him and Isaac. No, not something. It wasn’t just one thing. It happened so often that it could arguably be considered a routine. It was a string of moments and gestures all tied together on a wire of metal that coiled around Scott’s heart. It was strong and didn’t choke him although it could’ve. Regardless, it sparked Scott’s nerves into restlessness. Cold pressed to hot, a sensation both gratifying and terrorizing.

It started with the morning of the following week.

It was Monday, and they had been lingering in the doorway before heading out to school. Isaac snickered to himself, and Scott gave him a strange look. Isaac shook his head and pointed out how strange their lives were. “There’s a group of people who actively want us all dead, some guy on the loose who’s making sacrificial rituals, and what am I about to do? Sit in a classroom and listen to a lecture about The Scarlet Letter. It’s just weird. Our lives are weird.”

It was better than saying the other thing that dwelled in the darker parts of their minds. That their lives were miserable or any other relatable synonyms. They had buried two friends in the past few months. If there were any sort of lighter tones in the midsts of everything else, Scott was relieved to hear it. So, he nodded and chuckled back a simple, “Yeah,” because he didn’t really have anything else to add that wouldn’t take away from this easy moment.

They were about to walk out the door, but Scott stopped them. His brow scrunched up, and he stalled, “Wait.”

The tag of Isaac’s jacket was sticking up, and he didn’t look like he was going to notice it any time soon. When Isaac turned towards him, Scott took a step into his personal space, flattened out the tag, and fixed Isaac’s collar. He swept his hands over Isaac’s shoulders just before letting them drop back down to his sides and gave a small smile at his handiwork. When he was done, Scott noticed Isaac’s attention dead set on him. The smile slipped away. Scott stared back and felt his face start to heat up.

Was that weird? It felt normal a second ago, but now Scott couldn’t stop feeling anything but embarrassment. He just fixed Isaac’s jacket. He could have just said a simple, ‘Hey, buddy, your tag’s sticking up,’ but he didn’t. He fixed it himself. They were standing really close now, and Isaac was just _staring_ at him.

Scott shuffled backwards and scrambled for words. “Your, uh, your tag was up.”

Isaac briefly glanced down at his jacket and then peered back over at Scott. His voice was level, almost cautious when he said, “Thanks.”

Scott rattled off about how they should get going before they’re late and was quickly out the door. They didn’t say anything more about it, and Scott couldn’t seem to stop the bit of panic that tried to rise out his throat for the rest of the day. It was clear that something was going through Isaac’s head that didn’t entirely set right with him either whenever they didn’t talk to each other for the rest of the day.

Scott’s heart kept jumping faster than normal, and his nerves were all over the place. Being cooped up in the house with just Isaac after school was unsettling him all of a sudden, and he was sure that Isaac noticed this too. Isaac heard his discomfort or maybe just felt the tension because Isaac didn’t stay in the house for long. He told him from behind Scott’s closed door about going out and was then gone until the late hours of the night. Scott tried to study and just focus on school. He tried. He really did, but it wasn’t working.

Scott sat at the desk in his room with a pencil in hand and school papers scattered all over when it all started dawning on him. It hit him like a freight train. Just the other day Scott had _rearranged_ Isaac’s scarf whenever Isaac kept fussing with it in the mirror. In fact, Scott’s mind flipped through several instances of him fixing Isaac’s attire, whether it was his jacket, scarf, or helmet. Scott could remember thumbing dirt off Isaac’s face once, picking stray eyelashes off his eyes, and he picking things out of his hair. Oh God. Scott fussed with Isaac’s hair a _lot_. His hands were always in Isaac’s curls for one reason or another.

That wasn’t normal. That definitely wasn’t normal. You know what else wasn’t normal? The fact that Isaac never said anything about it. There had been no red flags before today that alerted Scott that he was doing something wrong. Even when that warning bell finally went off, Isaac still didn’t really say anything. He didn’t really need to though. Their current separation made it clear to Scott that Isaac was a little uneasy with everything too.

The harder Scott tried to push all these thoughts out, the stronger they’d resurface. He read through the textbook in front of him, but none of the material was sticking in his head. He hesitated, scrolled back up to the beginning of the paragraph, and ran his fingertip underneath the text to enhance his focus. It still didn’t help. He stopped again, read through it again, and then repeated the whole cycle once more after that.

Isaac had been living there in the McCall household for awhile now, ever since Derek had kicked him out for reasons that were still unknown to Scott and Isaac. Then somehow in between then and now, this whole mess had gotten thrown about. When had this little routine started? This hadn’t been normal between them when Isaac first moved in. Why had it happened? Why was Scott only just now becoming aware of everything?

The pencil was shaking in his hand, and his heart was still screaming in his ears like a siren going off. The lines being scribbled across the paper became shaky until the words were no longer coherent. The pencil dropped seconds later and rattled against the wood of the desk. He stared unblinking at the desk as the pencil rolled off the edge. The house was so quiet that when it fell, it sounded like a bomb dropping.

* * *

Isaac had a panic attack the next night, and everything from Monday had been pushed aside. Isaac was trying to hide it, trying not to alert anyone in the house. Both Melissa and Scott were home, and it was the dead of the night. A brutal nightmare forced Isaac awake, and it was hard to get a grip on reality. The world was foggy, and it felt like he hadn’t woken up at all. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew he was awake now and safe from the terrors of the false world. Yet, his mindset was still there, still gone. He wasn’t yet safe from the terrors that hunted him, ripped down his barriers, and cornered him.

He forced himself out of bed and staggered down the stairs to get to the kitchen. The world wobbled around him as he took careful steps to ensure he didn’t fall. He felt dizzy, and his heart was beating wildly. An invisible force wrapped around his neck in a simple hold that could threaten to cut off his air supply at any second. This was an all too familiar feeling, and he just needed to get downstairs. Maybe getting a drink would help him. If it didn’t, Isaac hoped being downstairs would give him and the others in the household enough distance so he wouldn’t wake them.

Shadowed figured kept darting past the corners of his sight, and the usual creaks of the house kept startling him. The panic building inside of him didn’t show any signs of disappearing. Isaac got himself a glass of water and gulped it down like it’d cure all this. It didn’t, but the cool feel of the water running down his throat eased him. It didn’t last long though. The air conditioning kicked on, and he reeled.

The glass slipped from his hand and shattered all over the tiled floor. It’s what woke Scott up. Scott snapped up out of bed in seconds. The startling noise mixed with the sounds of a frantic heartbeat and overpowering stench of terror throughout the house was enough to send adrenaline whirling through him. There wasn’t an intruder though whenever Scott had sprinted down the stairs. There was just Isaac, and Scott hesitated in the kitchen entryway as his mind tried to make sense of it.

Isaac was on his hands and knees trying to scoop up the glass into his hands. He kept apologizing on repeat, “I’ll clean it up. I’ll clean it up.”

“...Isaac?” Scott’s mind still wasn’t fully comprehending what was going on. He took wary steps towards him, but Isaac frantically recoiled back like Scott was out to hurt him. Scott froze, completely stunned by the reaction. His heart skipped a beat and nearly leaped up into his throat.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Isaac bemoaned, his voice desperate and as shaky as his whole body. “It was an accident. I’ll clean it up. I’m so sorry.”

Water and blood was dripped all over the floor, and Scott noticed that the broken glass was cutting Isaac’s skin. It would’ve healed up instantly if it weren’t for the pieces of glass that were jabbed into his flesh. He held the pieces in his palms so tightly that the jagged edges were only being wedged deeper into his hands. Some of the pieces were getting stuck, gashed into his skin, and dripping blood down his wrists. Isaac didn’t make any move to stop either. He kept gathering up more and more pieces.

Scott began to wake up more, no longer driven just purely on instinct and adrenaline. He started to make sense as to what was going on. After taking care to not step on any large chunks of glass, Scott knelt down and took a hold of both of Isaac’s wrists to get him to stop. Isaac tried to break out of the hold instantly and caused bits of bloody glass to be flung from his hands at the jerky movements. Despite this, Scott held him in place. They struggled for a minute with Scott trying to get Isaac to face him and Isaac trying to get away.

Scott begged, “Isaac, it’s okay! You’re okay. Isaac, _stop!_ Please!”

Isaac stopped fighting him but didn’t stop trembling. His heart raced, breathing was shallow, and sweat clung to his skin. Scott scooted himself close and murmured with less urgency, “Isaac, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

The repetition seemed to be doing the trick because Isaac at least wasn’t still outwardly spiraling. However, Scott could see how glassy his eyes were and how wide his pupils were blown. It was enough to keep him on edge. Isaac’s breath hitched. He nodded, paused, and then shook his head. “Scott, I—."

“No, Isaac, I mean it.” Although Isaac was facing him, he had shut his eyes tightly whenever Scott had spoken as if he had expected harsh words to be lashed out at him like the crack of a whip. Scott didn’t mean Isaac any harm of course, and his voice wasn’t anywhere close to cruel. It had been a whisper, not a shout or yell. Scott took it upon himself to rest their foreheads together with the hope that maybe gentle action would help ease him. Scott still held onto Isaac’s wrists as he tried to ground him. The scent of fear that still smothered Isaac made Scott’s chest constrict, and Scott murmured further, “Everything’s okay.”

They sat like that for a long time. Scott could hear Isaac’s heart begin to slow, and he was ready to sit there all night until Isaac calmed down completely if that’s what it took. Isaac’s voice was hoarse and sounded exhausted when he remembered, “The glass... I should—.”

“I’ll get it,” Scott assured. “I’ll clean this up.”

Disagreement caught in the back of Isaac’s throat but died on his tongue. He gave a short nod and pulled away. He didn’t get far when he rose to his feet. He took a step, hissed sharply, and faltered. He leaned awkwardly up against the wall after having fallen into it. It was clear by his wide-eyed glance back down to Scott that he was hoping he wouldn’t notice, but of course he did. Scott’s eyes traveled down to see the watery, bloody footprints that Isaac had left. The glass had cut into his feet and knees too, not just his hands.

When Scott stood, Isaac turned his head away. “I’m okay.”

It was an echo from earlier, but Scott ignored it and directed, “Couch.”

Scott wrapped Isaac’s arm around his shoulders and guided him to the living room. After getting Isaac settled, Scott returned to the kitchen briefly to clean up the mess that had been left there. When he approached Isaac again, he was holding a damp, wash cloth. Isaac was hunched over himself with his head down as he stared at his cut up hands. Isaac tensed whenever Scott moved the coffee table over so he could kneel down in front of him. He began to protest, but Isaac decided not to say anything in the end whenever Scott shook his head.

Scott’s nails grew a bit sharper so he could use them like tweezers to pick the glass out of Isaac’s knees. He placed the spare pieces on the nearby table and wiped up any leftover blood with the cloth after the cuts sealed back up. The house was still. A quiet calm fell over the two of them as Scott moved down to remove the glass from Isaac’s feet. Isaac shivered whenever one of Scott’s hands wrapped around his foot while the other removed the glass. The urge to fidget under the care rose inside of him, but he forced himself still as he watched him. This closeness, unlike what happened yesterday, was appearsing.

Once he finished, Scott moved onto the couch beside Isaac. He sat with his legs crossed underneath him so he could face Isaac completely. He took Isaac’s hands, guided Isaac to shift his position too, and then set them into Scott’s lap. Scott turned one of Isaac’s hands up to rest it into his own palm so that he could pick the glass out of it. Isaac watched Scott’s face for a minute, finding that he really couldn’t stop looking at him. Scott’s eyebrows were pinched just slightly and mouth stretched into a thin line as he focused on what he was doing. Isaac looked down at their hands where Scott delicately worked away before Isaac shook his head and chuckled humorlessly.

It was jarring, even though the noise had been quiet. Scott stopped what he was doing and looked up at him. Isaac shook his head again and answered the unspoken question by commenting, “It’s just... I don’t really have the best luck with glass.”

Scott thought about that for a minute as he switched to Isaac’s other hand. He stared down at Isaac’s palm without working on it, and his brow wrinkled when he frowned. “What do you mean?”

When Isaac didn’t answer right away, Scott gazed up at him again. Discomfort buzzed through Isaac, and he immediately directed his attention elsewhere. “I, um... Derek—he, uh—threw glass at my head the night he kicked me out, and I—.”

“ _What?_ ”

Isaac didn’t stop to explain further and continued, “Then my dad—he—well... He got mad at me at dinner one night and threw the water jug at me. I was already turned, so I started healing. I panicked and ran and...”

There was a long pause. Isaac swallowed thickly before whispering, “That was the last time I ever saw him. The kanima got him.”

Scott was silent. Isaac could feel his eyes boring into the side of his head. Isaac inhaled sharply, feeling the hair on the back of his neck begin to stand. This wasn’t like earlier. Isaac couldn’t bring himself to meet Scott’s eyes now that Scott was staring at him so intensely. He explained quickly to fill the silence, “Then I left Derek too. He’s not—he’s not _dead_ —but we thought he was for awhile, so I-I don’t know.”

Isaac shrugged a shoulder. “Glass. It’s just a bad omen I guess.”

The silence stretched. Scott still didn’t say anything when Isaac finished, which caused Isaac shifted his weight nervously. When Scott began to clean Isaac’s hand again, he didn’t say anything at first. The frown was still on his face, and he looked almost conflicted. It was hard for Isaac to get a read on him. Isaac felt his face begin to burn as he thought maybe saying all that had been a bad idea. He should have just kept silent. It took Isaac by surprise though when Scott began quietly, “Before I got the bite, I had very bad asthma. My dad would always yell at me any time I needed to use my inhaler.”

Scott paused, still trying to get all of his thoughts together. Isaac nodded slowly to indicate he was still listening as he wondered why Scott decided to share that. He watched curiously as Scott sighed and continued after he removed the last piece of glass that was stuck in Isaac’s hand.

“One night I woke up and couldn’t breathe. I was having another asthma attack, but I didn’t want to wake my mom up and take my inhaler. I thought maybe I could outlast it, you know? I sat awake in bed for two hours trying to just will it to stop. My parents woke up, and my mom freaked out when she found me. I couldn’t talk. My face was pale, and my lips had turned blue. My mom had to get out the breathing treatment machine instead of my inhaler at that point. My dad wasn’t happy about it. He got mad, and my parents got into a really bad fight. I thought it was my fault.”

Scott looked up at him. Isaac’s eyes briefly flickered down to track the movement of Scott’s thumb that had begun to brush repeatedly over his wrist before meeting Scott’s eyes again. “It wasn’t though,” Scott told him, “and what I’m trying to say is that it’s not your fault either. None of it is.”

Isaac cast his eyes down towards the carpet. “I know that,” he shrugged quietly.

Scott frowned. His thumb settled over Isaac’s pulse point and lightly pushed down on it when his grip tightened. “No, Isaac, I mean it. It’s not your fault.”

“Okay.” Isaac’s voice was strained, and the response half caught in his throat. He felt himself shaking again.

“Isaac.” Scott leaned over in order to catch Isaac’s gaze with his own. Isaac finally turned his head back, and Scott was staring into him when he repeated once more with care, “It’s not your fault.”

A response didn’t come this time. Isaac just gave a weak nod and bowed his head when he felt his eyes starting to sting. Scott moved forward and wrapped his arms around Isaac’s middle. Isaac tensed under the embrace, and his heart quickened. Scott didn’t let go though, and Isaac slowly went pliant against him. Isaac buried his face into the crook of Scott’s neck as he wrapped his own arms around him. Scott gradually guided them back so that they were lying down. It seemed to relax Isaac more whenever he slid his hand up into Isaac’s honey brown curls, fiddling gently with the strands and moving his fingers through them.

Scott really couldn’t stop tangling his hands into Isaac’s hair it seemed.

They fell asleep like that. Isaac had curled around Scott’s side and scooted down to use Scott’s chest as a pillow. Their legs were tangled, and Scott had one of his arms curved around Isaac. Melissa found them like this when she woke up. At first she thought maybe they had left early for school for some reason but stopped at the foot of the stairs in surprise whenever she saw them both on the couch. Melissa eyed them oddly, unsure and confused as she lingered in the living room. Her voice was wary when she called out to them.

“Boys?”

Both of them slowly came to and then froze at the realization of their predicament. Scott sat up and stared wide-eyed at his mom. His jaw hung open when no explanation came immediately, and Isaac flushed pink beside him. Melissa kept doing a double take between them and her original destination to the kitchen before telling them strangely, “It’s already eight. You boys should get up so you’re not late.”

They both just nodded and were up quickly after that. Melissa didn’t say anything more to them that morning, and neither of them said anything else to each other.

* * *

Scott was in the mood for take-out, so he was going to just call in somewhere and have them deliver. Scott went downstairs to where Isaac was sitting on the couch watching TV. He waved his cellphone in the air, ready to ask Isaac what he wanted, but he didn’t manage to get the question all the way out. “Hey, I was going to—. Is that my hoodie?”

Isaac glanced down to his attire and then back up at Scott. A confused look crossed his face as he hesitated. He was wearing Scott’s navy blue, striped hoodie. It fit Isaac because it was a size or two bigger than Scott was. Isaac told him cautiously, “I was wearing it yesterday.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.”

When Scott didn’t answer back right away, Isaac fidgeted. “Your mom put my jacket in the wash, and I was cold. I saw this lying out, and I couldn’t find anything else, so I took it. Do you—? ...I’ll just take it off.”

“No, no!” Scott’s nerves for reasons he didn’t understand were suddenly on edge. He rushed a little too quickly, “It’s fine. I was just wondering. You can wear it.”

Isaac eyed him skeptically, noting Scott’s discomfort. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” It didn’t sound like a real answer. Scott’s voice was still an octave too high.

“Okay...”

There was a lull. Isaac wondered if he should just take off the hoodie anyway, but he had a feeling that Scott would protest and insist that it was fine. The phone was forgotten in Scott’s hand for a minute when he found that he couldn’t stop staring at him. Isaac was wearing his hoodie. That thought kept spinning around in his head like a dime that couldn’t decide which side to settle on. Isaac had been actively carrying around Scott’s scent for the past two days. Scott hadn’t even noticed.

Isaac caught Scott’s attention again by prompting, “So... What were you about to say?”

Scott shook out of the daze this time, the strange bout of mania gone. “Oh, right. Do you want anything from Tito’s?"

"Sure. Get me a taco with sour cream.”

“Any hot sauce?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, one taco with sour cream and make sure to get hot sauce,” Scott repeated before turning and heading towards the kitchen to make the call. All the while though, his mind was still thinking hard about Isaac wearing his jacket. There was this feeling buzzing inside of his chest, and he didn’t know quite how to place it.

It was a few days later that Scott realized that Isaac apparently wasn’t the only one who stole clothes. It was the end of the day, and Scott was getting ready to sleep. His hands gripped the bottom edge of the shirt he was wearing as he got ready to tug it up over his head, but he paused. Scott noted how big the shirt was on him, and it wasn’t until then that he realized the shirt he had picked up out of the basket this morning was Isaac’s. Scott froze and stared at it with wide eyes. He hadn’t even noticed until now. Had Isaac noticed? Why hadn’t he said anything to him?

It smelled more like laundry detergent than Isaac but that still didn’t change the fact that it belonged to him. Scott sat on the end of his bed and stared off at the floor. Him and Stiles shared clothes all the time. This wasn’t anything different than that. This was normal. They were living together, so it was only natural that some of their clothes get mixed up. If they swapped articles of clothing every now and then, it was fine. There was nothing wrong with that, right?

Scott tossed the shirt into the floor where his other dirty clothes were littered and flopped down into bed. He peered up at the ceiling, and creases took formed on his forehead. Now that Scott was thinking about it, he could recall other times when he had caught Isaac wearing his clothes. It had been simply noted, and Scott didn’t bother saying anything about it then. That’s probably why Isaac was caught off guard the other day.

Then there were probably other times when Scott had done the same. He could think of at least one other time besides today, and Isaac had never said anything to him about it either. Why hadn’t he said anything about it though? Why hadn’t _Scott_ said anything about it? Why was he only just now really becoming alert to it all?

The real question though was why was it bothering him so much? Scott inhaled a deep breath and ridiculed himself. This was ridiculous. Friends share clothes. It was fine if they borrowed clothes every now and then. There was nothing more to read into it... Despite this, Scott couldn’t shake that unplaceable feeling that began to flutter in his chest again.

* * *

The weekend was harsh between Scott and Derek when it came to the alphas. They couldn’t agree on anything, which was expected. The next full moon was coming up, and the alphas would strike again soon. They were demanding that Derek join their pack. It was do or die. Really though they were picking at straws. It was hard to say which tactic would be the most reasonable and effective because they both were getting close to the end of their ropes.

Stiles, Scott, and Isaac had all gone to Deaton at one point after talking to Derek. They needed all the help they could get and seeking him for help seemed like the obvious thing to do. They helped him finish the work he was doing at the animal clinic so he could close up while they discussed. While moving around the office, Scott and Isaac couldn’t stop accidentally brushing up against one another. They kept stepping into each other’s spaces and getting too close when they’d pass by.

They kept catching the other’s gaze too. One would be staring, the other would catch them, and then they’d hold each other’s eyes for a minute before looking away. Scott’s mind slowly connected the dots back to that day in English not too long ago. It was another phenomenon of slow realization of just how many times this had happened between them. Deaton had eyed Scott at one point, and Scott could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise. It was seconds later that he found himself staring at the back of Isaac’s head, and it wasn’t until Isaac turned around that he stopped. Scott’s heart stuttered in his chest, and frustration took hold of him quickly afterwards. He placed some medical supplies a little too forcefully on the shelf in front of him. Why did they keep doing this?

All the while, Scott kept expecting Stiles to say something. Stiles was going to notice because it was too obvious not to. He could have sworn Stiles caught them once, and Scott just waited in anticipation on the ride back home in Stiles’s jeep. What would Stiles say? It occurred to Scott that he was terrified about Stiles saying something to him. It was like being cornered. Everything was just so confusing, and things just kept _happening_. Scott didn’t know what to make of it himself, so how was he going to explain this to Stiles?

Scott glanced up into the rearview mirror and caught those blue eyes on him. Dammit. _Again_. When Scott glanced over, Stiles was looking at him. Scott was about ready to jump right out of his skin. _'Here it comes,'_  Scott thought. There was no denying it that time. Stiles had caught them. Scott felt like he was choking when he watched Stiles open his mouth and...started talking about the Darach.

Scott felt woozy by the time Stiles dropped them off at his house. It felt like an out of body experience, something not quite solid and tangible. Everything was just floating too far out of reach. He couldn’t figure out how to stop the Darach, he didn’t know what to do about the alphas, and he was at a loss with Isaac. Everything was so frustrating. Scott started on a rant the moment him and Isaac stepped inside the house. He spouted off about everyone’s dire situations and how maybe the hunters might be able to help them trap the alphas at least if they couldn’t find any better options. Isaac just stood there, nodding and giving short answers to let Scott know he was listening.

Whenever Scott stopped getting so worked up, he hunched over himself in the kitchen. He gripped the edge of the kitchen counter as he leaned over it with his head down. His eyes pinched closed as he focused on trying to calm the hysteria that had risen inside of him. Deep breaths in, and slow breaths out. A minute or two passed, and Scott felt Isaac’s presence right beside him. He could almost hear the gears turning in Isaac’s head as he lingered. Then there was a barely there touch against Scott’s hand, the feeling of fingers ghosting over his skin.

Scott’s breath caught in his throat, and Isaac froze immediately. Seconds ticked by and their hearts quickened their paces. Nothing was said, and neither of them moved. Then just like that Isaac fit his hand completely on top of Scott’s own and gently curled his fingers in between his. If Scott didn’t pull his hand away, well that was their secret.

* * *

Scott had a headache. It was the middle of the week, and his stress levels were rising. The less than friendly encounter he had with Aiden today in the hallway at school hadn’t helped much to say the least. Isaac had persuaded Scott out of the house, and they were currently seated at a diner. Isaac was lounged out on one side of the booth with one arm slung over the back of the seat and the other resting on the table. He trilled his fingers against the tabletop while Scott had his head in his hands.

“He was trying to get a rise out of you. Thinks he’s already won and is throwing his weight around,” Isaac speculated. He paused before adding, “You should have punched him.”

Scott sighed. “That wouldn’t have helped anything.”

Isaac shrugged and sassed, “Might of.”

Whenever a waitress came by and set a mug of hot chocolate and slice of cherry pie in front of him, Scott sat up and stared down at it in confusion. Scott hadn’t ordered anything. He vaguely recalled Isaac ordering something, but he hadn’t been paying much attention at the time. The waitress set a soda down in front of Isaac before smiling sweetly at them both. “Enjoy.”

Scott only continued to stare in mild confusion as he became unsure as to what to do. Isaac flashed him an uncertain smile and put in, “You said something about liking cherry pie once. I’ll take it if you don’t want it.”

Scott had no memory of that conversation, but there sat the cherry pie nonetheless. Wait. He frowned and slowly dragged his gaze up to Isaac. “But you don’t like cherry pie.”

He didn’t remember that conversation either, but this information had risen to the front of Scott’s mind. Scott figured he hadn’t just dreamed that up whenever a lazy grin stretched onto Isaac’s face. “Yeah, I don’t. Tastes like rubber.”

Amusement buzzed inside of him, and Scott couldn’t help the incredulous grin that formed on his face. It indented his dimples, and his eyes brightened. “Like _rubber?_ What kind of cherry pie did you eat?”

“I don’t know!” Isaac exclaimed in good humor. “It was weird.”

Scott laughed despite the headache and shook his head at him. When he took a bite out of the pie, he couldn’t hold back the smile that pulled onto his face again. “How could you think this tastes like rubber?”

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you, McCall,” Isaac chuckled.

When Scott looked up, he caught Isaac’s gaze and noted the slyness lightening them. Scott’s eyes slipped down and lingered on Isaac’s lips. They were pale pink and tugged up at one corner in a smirk. The smile slowly disappeared from Scott’s face as he stared, and his mouth parted open. Something tightened in his chest, and it wasn’t an entirely foreign feeling.

When Scott glanced back up at Isaac’s eyes, Isaac was looking off at the people a few booths down. Scott dropped his gaze down at the pie, and Isaac joked about something pertaining to the nearby group. Although Scott chuckled in response, it wasn’t as heartily as before. Isaac didn’t notice, but Scott ate a little slower with a slight frown on his face as he lost himself in thought.

Later that night, Scott found himself unable to sleep. He lied back on his bed, and his eyes traced patterns in the ceiling texture. An hour or so passed like this. His mind was lost and had been ever since the outing at the diner. There were two heartbeats in the house that weren’t his own. Scott’s eyes slipped closed, and he focused in on the steady sound of Isaac’s. That feeling in his chest was back, and Scott remained awake.

* * *

Normal.

Scott needed something normal to go on in his life, and the opportunity presented itself in the middle of that following week. There was a sort of bake drive going on at the children’s hospital a city over from Beacon Hills. They were asking for people to bring or make different goodies to hand out to the children in their care and their families. His mom had been talking about it for the past few days because she wanted to contribute in some way. She had already bought a huge bag of lollipops to donate, but Scott decided he’d try his hand at making something homemade. He was stressed out, couldn’t focus on school anymore, and decided _fuck it_ he’s going to bake cookies.

Isaac had raised an eyebrow at him whenever he heard Scott banging around in the kitchen and had went to investigate. He was a little skeptical about Scott’s cooking skills.

“Do you even know how to make cookies from scratch?” Isaac questioned.

Yeah, Scott had decided to do this the hard way. No mixes for him. He rummaged around for baking powder and offered, “I looked up a recipe.”

“Have you ever done this before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“How many do you have to make?”

“Like fifty at least?”

“Wow.”

Scott gave an uncomfortable chuckle. “Yeah.”

He was starting to feel uneasy under Isaac’s watchful gaze. Maybe this was a bad idea. He probably should just quit while he was ahead and find something else to occupy his time. However, that thought was dispelled from his mind when Isaac asked him, “Do you need any help?”

Scott’s eyes widened a little whenever he turned to look at him. “Do you know how to bake?”

“Er...No.”

Scott blinked, his expression blank for a minute. It was true that some of his stress lied with Isaac. There was still frustration and confusion there in the back of Scott’s mind whenever he thought too hard, but the sudden offer sent a light warmth through his chest. Isaac was his friend after all, and the company might help shake Scott out of whatever mood he had gotten into. A small smile stretched Scott’s lips and widened into a grin in spite of himself. “Sure, dude, you can help. It’s going to take me forever if I have to do all this by myself anyway.”

Thus began the baking team-up. It turned out that they didn’t have enough supplies in the kitchen, so they made a quick trip to the grocery store. Scott had the sugar cookie recipe up on his phone and directed them to which aisle they needed to be on while Isaac grabbed the items off the shelves and put them into the basket he was carrying. There was some kind of enjoyment in rushing around the store as quick as they could trying to figure out how much they needed to get of everything to make at least fifty cookies.

Then someone pointed out to Isaac that he had just picked up root beer extract instead of vanilla whenever they had overheard them talking about making sugar cookies. Scott wouldn’t have even noticed because he was still looking at his phone. Isaac turned red, and Scott couldn’t stop laughing. It wasn’t even all the funny really, but Scott couldn’t help it. Something about how the moment was setup triggered it, and Isaac only added to it when he kept telling Scott to shut up and explained how alike the packages looked.

The mood only got lighter whenever they got home. They could fit about twenty cookies in the oven at a time, so they decided they’d just make three batches. By around the second batch, everything got out of hand. It started with Isaac accidentally flinging cookie batter at Scott whenever he stirred the mix, then Scott just happened to get flour in Isaac’s hair, and it only escalated from there. The kitchen was a mess. The two of them flung flour and cookie batter everywhere, and they had even cracked a few eggs on top of each other’s head at one point.

Laughter poured from them and vibrated off the walls like harp strings being plucked. Nothing existed outside of this moment. It was just the two of them. No Darach. No alphas. Scott soaked up the happiness that smelled of cookie dough, and smiled at the laugh lines by Isaac’s eyes he never knew existed.

When Scott put in the second batch of cookies, Isaac grabbed one of the finished ones off the tray that was sitting on the counter and munched on it. Scott urged, “Any good, or should we stop while we’re ahead?”

Isaac made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat before reaching the cookie he was eating towards him. Scott leaned over and took a bite out of it like it was the most casual thing in the world. Scott grinned, and Isaac smiled back at him. They weren’t a complete disaster after all, and Scott complimented, “I think we did all right.”

It seemed all fine until Melissa caught their attention. She had been standing there in the entryway. For how long, neither of them knew. Isaac kept looking between her and the rest of the kitchen, and Scott realized how much of a mess everything still was. “Mom, we—.”

She raised a hand up to stop him. “Just clean it all up whenever you’re done. My kitchen better not look like this in the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Isaac assured, and Scott echoed something similar. The air between them became a little more tense after that. The scent of cookies in the air now clung like a bad aftertaste, and the world crept back around theirs. They finished up the baking, cleaned the kitchen, and wrapped the cookies with minimum words shared between them.

“Scott,” Isaac stopped him before he could disappear into his room after they had departed upstairs.

Scott turned in his doorway and asked, “Yeah?”

Isaac opened his mouth, but nothing was said. Whatever struggle had gone on in his mind, Isaac had lost to it. He bowed his head and said dejectedly, “Good night.”

Scott frowned but didn’t press for something more. Exhaustion had crawled its way back inside of him, and he didn’t have the energy for anything other than, “Yeah, you too.”

In the morning whenever Melissa caught Scott in the kitchen by himself, she couldn’t avoid the subject any longer. “What about Allison? Scott, are you and Isaac...?”

Scott’s heart dropped. He couldn’t look at her. The feeling of her attention on him was making his skin crawl, and he found that he didn’t have an answer. He managed to choke out, “No, I...I don’t know.”

* * *

A realization came to Scott that afternoon, and he was unable to think about anything else. Even with everything that had gone on, this was what occupied his thoughts. Nearly everyone had filed out of the locker rooms now. When Stiles left for the restrooms, Scott voiced what was on his mind. He neared Isaac’s locker, and Isaac looked up when Scott began, “Yesterday...”

“Yeah?”

“You laughed. A lot actually,” Scott remembered. A certain light was brightening his eyes. Something akin to awe. He admitted quietly, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before.”

Isaac dropped his head down and went back to stuffing his lacrosse gear into his bag. He shrugged a shoulder. “Okay...?”

Scott was looking down, nudging his shoe into a crack in the ground. A small smile softened Scott’s features. “It was nice.”

Isaac stopped and picked his head up slowly. He watched Scott for a minute, his eyes examining the far off look Scott had on his face as he stared at the ground. Isaac confessed, "Yeah, it was."

Their eyes met. Neither of them said anything more, and neither of them looked away. The world was chipping away around them, falling apart left and right with everything that was going on. They didn't voice it, couldn't bring attention to the torn world unless they were stuck in between the tears. Yet still, there were these moments. These little glimpses into something more. If they were two broken pieces, they were two broken pieces that fit. It wasn't until Stiles came around the corner that the moment faded.

Scott spent the night at Stiles’s house, and Stiles continued not to make any passes at the subject. Stiles brought up Isaac once, but it wasn’t in the same context. Scott was getting antsy. A part of him wanted to bring it up and start talking about it to get Stiles’s input. Scott did want to know what Stiles thought as it turned out. He was his best friend, so of course it would happen eventually. In the end, Scott said nothing though. Multiple explanations danced on the tip of his tongue, but no questions were asked of him. He decided he’d tell Stiles later.

* * *

When Scott was wearing Isaac’s black sweater that next night, it wasn’t an accident. His heart raced as he got situated in bed. Isaac’s scent was right there this close, suffocating him and sending butterflies through his stomach. His heart ached, and he recognized how this was the same buzzing in his chest he had felt multiple times in the past. It was hard to get comfortable with his nerves like this, but he didn’t want to take it off. Scott scolded himself with each toss and turn. What was he doing? What explanation could he possibly give if Isaac caught him right now?

The truth, maybe, and perhaps that was the whole reason he was doing this to begin with.

* * *

Pirates Of The Caribbean aired one evening, and the two teens decided to take it upon themselves to watch it. They had just been sitting side by side on the couch for awhile with a bowl of popcorn shared between them. Their hands kept brushing against one another whenever they’d reach for the popcorn at the same time. It was cliche, but that didn’t stop Scott’s heart from skipping each time it happened. Whenever the bowl emptied, Scott rested one of his arms around the back of the couch. It wasn’t five minutes later that his fingers found their way into Isaac’s hair, twirling the curls around his fingers.

Isaac leaned back into the touch whenever Scott slid his hand through them and a certain ease fell over him. Isaac shifted his position a few minutes later. He lied on his back with his legs strung over the arm of the couch and his head in Scott’s lap. Isaac eyed Scott for a moment in anticipation, waiting to see if Scott would protest. He didn’t. Scott just moved his hand down to work them through Isaac’s hair again.

They sat like this for a bit, but Isaac eventually asked, “Why do you keep doing this?”

Scott glanced down to see that Isaac was staring up at him. Isaac’s attention was no longer on the movie and perhaps hadn’t been for awhile now. There was a slight frown on Isaac’s face and a hint of what looked like sadness in his eyes. Scott knew there had to be some meaning behind him saying ‘you’ instead of ‘we’, but he didn’t know what it meant. Scott had been waiting for someone to ask him questions over the past few days, but of course he’d get asked the wrong ones. He swallowed nervously and looked back up at the TV.

“I don’t know,” Scott apologized. He just was, and the truth was that he didn’t want to stop.

Isaac’s eyes fell half lidded as he glanced down at Scott’s chest. He could hear Scott’s heart beating out of step. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

That was probably as close to the right question as they were going to get. A small smile formed on Scott’s face. His heartbeat was still fast, but it didn’t skip.

“No, it doesn’t.”

* * *

“Allison tried to kiss me,” Scott confessed all in one breath the second he burst into Isaac’s room. Isaac picked up his head and looked at him uncertainly. He shifted his weight in his desk chair under Scott’s wild-eyed stare and said nothing.

Scott had went to see Allison to talk to her about the Darach and also share his idea with her about maybe rounding up some hunters in order to take down the alphas. It would be dangerous, but at this point in the game, dangerous might be the only option left. Somewhere along the lines they had found themselves in each other’s space, the mood flipped around, and Scott couldn’t shake the hot and clammy feeling of disloyalty. It was absurd. There was no reason he should be feeling the sting of guilt. However, it remained, and he couldn’t wash it clean.

Scott stood rigid in the middle of the room with his shoulders squared up a few inches too high. “I don’t know how it happened. We were talking, and then...”

Isaac shook his head. He sounded lost, and his voice was quiet when he asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

Scott was admitting this because it was eating him alive. There had been leftover feelings there between him and Allison, and Scott was freaking out. Isaac had flashed through his mind the second before, and he thought his heart was going to drop right out of his chest. Scott nearly wept, “I had to.”

“Look,” Isaac cut in sharply, “you don’t have to justify yourself to me.”

“Isaac—.”

“You don’t have to ask me for permission to kiss your ex,” Isaac argued.

“No, it’s not—.” Scott dug a hand through his hair and growled in frustration. Nothing was coming out of his mouth right. Scott thought he had everything sorted out in his head, but it all got flipped around again. It felt like trying to catch smoke when he protested, “We didn’t. It’s not like that anymore.”

“It’s your life, Scott,” Isaac told him when he stood. He grabbed his jacket off the end of his bed, threw it on, and moved passed Scott to get to the door. “Do whatever you want.”

Isaac was down the stairs and out the front door in seconds. The door slammed too hard to be casual, and Scott felt his whole body shudder at how final it felt. He inhaled shakily and could do nothing but stand there for a few minutes. He located his phone sometime afterwards and dialed Stiles’s number. His voice trembled when he asked, “Hey, Stiles... Can I crash at yours tonight?”

* * *

They had showed up late to another murder, and this one had been the last of that group. Now, they were back at square one with where the Darach would strike next, and they were running out of time. There wouldn’t be very many groups left that the Darach would murder. The dark druid was going to reach the end of their ritual soon, and that thought left everyone feeling sick. What was going to happen if the Darach reached their goal? What would that mean for all of them?

Isaac was talking with Cora a little ways away, and Scott had been staring. He wasn’t paying much attention anymore to what Lydia was talking to Stiles about. It had been about her increasing awareness of being able to locate dead bodies, and Scott honestly didn’t know what to think about that. He hoped maybe they could use Lydia’s strange gift to their advantage somehow, and Stiles had agreed with them. Lydia didn’t seem too thrilled by the idea, but she hadn’t shot down the idea completely either.

“What’s going on between you and Isaac?”

Scott froze. When he turned his attention back to Stiles, he realized that Lydia had left. The time had come and gone for Scott to be prepared for these questions, and all he could manage to choke out was, “What?”

Stiles shrugged and gestured at Isaac. “You two have just been edgy around each other lately is all. Did something happen?”

Scott sighed. He was at least a little bit relieved that Stiles wasn’t insinuating what he had originally feared. The last thing he wanted to do right then was try to explain that entire mess. He dropped his head down for a moment, sighed again, and then looked up towards the night sky. “Yeah,” he admitted, “but it’s—.”

Derek interrupted them both, and they didn’t get a chance to talk about it again until later that night when Stiles sent him a text.

 **[11:02 PM] Stiles:** Do I need to get some wolfsbane?  
 **[11:02 PM] Stiles:** He didn’t wolf out on your mom right?

No, no. Thank God no. Isaac wouldn’t do something like that. What had happened back at the school when Isaac had attacked Allison had been an accident, and Scott had been there to stop it. It hadn’t been Isaac’s fault. The twins found one of Isaac’s weak spots and used it to their advantage. If another situation like that ever came up, Scott would be there to stop that too. At least that disaster wasn’t going on between them.

 **[11:04 PM] Scott:** No everything’s fine. We’re figuring it out  
 **[11:15 PM] Stiles:** Still getting wolfsbane  
 **[11:17 PM] Scott:** Lol you won’t need it tho  
 **[11:17 PM] Stiles:** This isn’t about Isaac  
 **[11:18 PM] Stiles:** Derek is being a grumpy ass alpha and I need leeway  
 **[11:22 PM] Scott:** Good luck with that lol

Scott lied on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, which he seemed to be doing more and more lately. Everything was still tangled up in his mind, but Scott had straightened things up a little over the past few days. Almost an hour passed when Scott made the decision to tell Stiles. He was tired of waiting for Stiles to bring it up, and he figured it was about time that he finally say something. He was just going to have to ease into this conversation himself.

 **[12:05 AM] Scott:** I don’t like Allison anymore.

There it was. There was the truth. What had happened the other day had been a fluke. There had been leftover feelings, memories of the past that hurt like a thorn in his side. It would have been a mistake if they had kissed though. It had been different than the moment they had shared in the closet. Scott had leaned away, not towards. That meant a lot. Scott had recognized that the feeling hadn’t been guilt but just simple loss. Scott felt that same small spark of pain in his chest when Stiles texted him back in surprise.

 **[12:10 AM] Stiles:** Really?

* * *

The tension remained thick between them, and Scott couldn’t take it anymore. Everything that had been going on between him and Isaac—all the little things—were so noticeable whenever they were suddenly not there anymore. It was driving Scott up a wall. He couldn’t handle it on top of everything else. Thus, he took a bold step that next night and leaped onto the bed where Isaac was lying. Isaac flailed immediately in surprise. His eyes had glowed a threatening yellow, but Scott pinned him down and half shouted, “I meant what I said, okay?”

Isaac stopped fighting him, but he was still visibly tense. His eyes remained yellow. “About?”

“Allison.” Scott was on edge too. Every muscle in his body was taut, and any wrong move could snap him in half. “We’re not together anymore.”

Isaac glanced off to the side and groaned in annoyance, “I already knew that.”

Isaac tried fighting him off again, but Scott fought back and growled in frustration, “No, Isaac, you didn’t. _I_ didn’t. I thought—.”

A shaky breath left Scott, and Isaac stilled. Scott closed his eyes as he focused on trying to even out his breathing, but it wasn’t really working. The anger left Isaac. He searched Scott’s face and saw the stress that was written all over him. Scott continued a little gentler, “I thought we were it, you know? We took a break, but that was what it was supposed to be. A _break_.”

The cold, bittersweet truth was that it was a break. Just not the kind of break Scott was expecting. It wasn’t a pause, a rest. It was a snap, a split.

“We were waiting for things to settle, but then they never did. The alphas. The Darach. It all happened so fast, and then you were there, and I...” Scott shook his head. “None of it’s happening like I thought it would.”

Isaac’s mind rolled back over to what Scott had told him the other day. His tone was sad when he spoke but honest. “It could happen. You and Allison.”

When he looked down at Isaac, a soundless chuckle caught in the back of Scott’s throat. There were those stormy blue eyes staring up at him. The lightning had passed, and it was just a brewing fog now. They looked endlessly deep, and Scott found himself drawn to them like he had been so many times before. A heartbroken and bittersweet smile rose to Scott’s face when he admitted, “I don’t want it to.”

Isaac stared, unsure what to say. Scott slumped his head down in between Isaac’s shoulder and neck. “I’m sorry for the other day,” Scott whispered. He was shaking a little, and he could feel tears stinging his eyes. “I panicked, but I really do mean it, Isaac.”

One of Isaac’s hands reached up. He hesitated for a moment before grazing his fingers along Scott’s side as he tracked the movement with his eyes. A gasp left Scott, and he shivered at the contact. Isaac slipped his other hand out of Scott’s now loose grasp and brought it up to hold Scott’s opposite side. He squeezed his hands around Scott in a silent offer for comfort, and Scott finally let himself drop and lie on top of him.

Isaac folded his arms over Scott and addressed, “You don’t have to say that. You don’t have to mean it.”

Scott nodded into Isaac’s neck. “Yeah, I do,” he proclaimed. “I’m still getting over Allison, but I really like you. I’m not using you. I promise.”

Scott was too exhausted to realize that was the first time something was directly said about what was going on between them. There it was out in the open. Scott admitted to his feelings for Isaac, who unlike Scott was attentive enough to notice. It was what he needed to hear, and Isaac relaxed.

“I like you too,” Isaac breathed out like it was a weight he had been wanting to get off his chest for far too long.

Scott chuckled lightly against him. “That’s good, or this would be awkward.”

Isaac tightened his hold on Scott and smiled as an airy laugh floated past his lips. “Yeah, it would be.”

They stayed in this position until Scott was lulled to sleep. Isaac listened to the gentle but steady strides of Scott’s heart as he tentatively slid his fingers through Scott’s black hair. Scott did this to him all the time and was asleep currently, but Isaac touched him like Scott was going to snap awake any second and scold him for taking selfish enjoyment in him. The notion was ridiculous of course, and Scott didn’t so much as move in response. The soft noise of Scott breathing in and out calmed him, and he could feel sleep trying to wash over him as well. Isaac figured Scott hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he didn’t want to wake him up.

So, Isaac carefully maneuvered the two of them until they were lying on their sides. Scott aroused slightly. He turned to have his back against Isaac’s chest but remained close. Isaac paused for a moment to wonder if it was okay before he snuggled up against him and wrapped an arm around Scott’s middle. He buried his nose into Scott’s hair, breathing in the strong and earthy scent of Scott that always had a sweet tinge to him before sleep took hold.

* * *

After two days of sleeping in Isaac’s bed, worry forced Scott to drag his feet to his own room to sleep. He feared he might suffocate Isaac with clinginess, and he didn’t want Isaac to feel uncomfortable in any way. Scott was starting to second guess whether or not sleeping together was okay yet. He didn’t want to push this on him. Scott could deal with his own emotional state by himself and push down his own desire for this closeness with Isaac until Isaac favored sleeping in the same bed together. It had only been two days, but Scott already missed the warmth against his back and feel of Isaac wrapped up around him. His bed was harshly unpleasant in a way Scott didn’t remember it to be, but he eventually managed to force himself asleep.

It was at some point during the AM hours that Scott was pulled from unconsciousness. He snapped to alertness whenever he felt the mattress dip down and someone draw closer. Isaac’s scent hit him though, and Scott relaxed. Isaac, however, wasn’t so chilled, and words were fumbling out of his mouth.

“This was a bad idea,” he fussed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep, and I thought—. I’ll just go back to—.”

A smirk pulled at Scott’s lips before he told him in amusement, “Isaac, you can stay.”

“Oh.” Isaac relaxed but didn’t move closer right away. “You’re sure?”

Scott reached one of his hands back to grab onto Isaac’s arm. He tugged him closer, draped the arm over his side, and curled it around his chest. Scott rested his hand over Isaac’s and intertwined their fingers together. He smiled lazily and murmured, “Very.”

He wanted to tell Isaac the reasons why he hadn’t crawled into Isaac’s bed and reassure him that this was okay, but Scott was too dazed to voice it all. The light scent of Isaac that smelled a lot like salt water and the fresh scent of morning dew was back and so was his body heat. Comfort washed over him, and Scott was back asleep in minutes. Isaac didn’t need much of an explanation though. A small smile formed as he settled behind Scott, pulling him closer and feeling at ease again.

* * *

Isaac teased Scott sometimes with little, offhanded comments directed at him. He tested the waters at first and eyed Scott to see how he’d react. When Scott never snapped at him for it, Isaac only continued doing it. It would be comments such as shrugging his shoulders during a conversation between him, Scott, and Stiles in class, add in his opinion about how tattoos were hot, brush his fingers over the black bands on Scott’s arm later in the hallway, and smirk at him as he’d pass. It always made Scott’s face heat up and stomach flip flop just before the smirk would reflect back onto his own face. Yes, Scott was quite okay with this.

* * *

It was the evening before the full moon. They were tracking the alphas, and that’s when the conversation came up. They were all trying to figure out some way to prepare for the big showdown tomorrow, find a chink in their armour, and be ready to strike whenever it was exposed. Allison and Scott were crouched down in the bushes after having followed the twins. They waited to see if Ethan and Aiden would fall into a conversation about tomorrow and what they were planning. They said nothing of the sort, but Scott and Allison weren't all that surprised. This had been a long shot anyway, but it had been decided that they'd at least give it a try while Stiles and Isaac tried to uncover more information about the rituals the Darach was making.

They were a good distance away from the twins so not to draw their attention. They could hear them talking about Danny of all things and briefly mentioned Lydia. The small talk they had about Lydia was concerning to both Scott and Allison, but it still wasn't anything useful for tomorrow. When the twins left, the two of them stayed behind for a bit just to make sure they put enough distance between them and the alphas to ensure their own safety before they'd decide to leave. As they waited, Allison ran her fingers over the string of her bow. Scott was too busy staring out after where the twins had left to notice how Allison glanced up at him for a minute.

Her gaze lingered but dropped back down to her bow when she prompted slowly, “You seem different.”

Scott turned his head towards her and frowned. “Different?”

Allison nodded, keeping her eyes cast down. She bit her lip as she rolled a thought around in her head. She flipped her head back and shook her long, black hair out of her face before she looked at him and said, “So, that's it then?”

There was a small tug in Scott’s chest when he watched a crestfallen smile pull too tightly on her mouth. Scott knew where this conversation was heading before Allison said it. “You’ve moved on.”

“I’m sorry,” was the only recompense Scott could seem to give as he desperately dug at the corners of his mind for something more to say that’d soften the truth.

Allison nodded jerkily, turned her head, and blinked up towards the sky. “Right, right.”

“For what it’s worth,” Scott promised quietly. “I meant everything I said to you. It’s just that—.”

“Things don’t always happen the way you thought,” Allison finished sadly. “I know. I shouldn’t be so surprised. I meant it too, you know. About not asking for you to wait for me.”

“Allison...”

Allison shook her head. “It’s okay, Scott. Really. I just...wanted to know for sure if this was really it.”

Scott nodded glumly, knowing in the back of his mind that there was nothing to make this better. The truth was harsh, and it had to be said. He confirmed, “It is.”

There were tears in her eyes, and it made Scott’s heart ache knowing they were because of him. They moved in to hug one another for a moment or two. Allison buried her face into his chest, and Scott had one hand pressed against the back of her head to hold her close. This was their final goodbye. When she pulled away, she wiped her eyes and nodded again. Scott could still feel the pain like a barb in his heart, but it wasn’t the same agony he had felt the day Allison almost kissed him. The pain was subsiding, and his heart was healing.

When Allison and Scott returned to Stiles’s house, Isaac paused and gave them a strange look when they entered. It wasn’t until later when him and Scott returned to the McCall house that he said something. After Scott had taken a shower and gotten dressed, he found Isaac sitting on the edge of Scott’s bed with a pensive look on his face. Scott rubbed the white towel through his partially wet hair as he waited for Isaac to say what Scott knew he would.

“You smelled like her.”

Isaac didn’t look up from where he was sitting. Scott nodded and tossed the towel over his desk chair. The accusation wasn’t a simple ‘you were around her, so you smell like her’. It was ‘her scent is smothering you because you two got really close’. He knew what had happened earlier was going to make Isaac uncomfortable. There was no way around that, but Scott addressed, “That’s why I showered.”

There was a beat, and then Isaac began, “Scott, if you’re having doubts about this, tell me.”

Scott stepped right in front of him. A hand slipped over Isaac’s cheek and nudged his head up. Scott leaned forward and searched Isaac’s eyes, which seemed to be struggling with holding Scott’s gaze right then. He looked painfully skittish.

“I’m not having any doubts,” Scott promised. “Allison and I are on the same page now. She—.”

The words were lost when Isaac surged up and kissed him. Scott’s breath hitched after being caught by surprise. The kiss was short, barely lasting a second, but the contact had been firm and certain. There was a lull where neither of them seemed to breathe. Both of their eyes were wide as they stared at one another, silently trying to sense what the other was thinking. Then as fast as the Earth stilled, it spun to life again. Scott moved forward, closed his eyes, and reconnected their lips. It felt like breathing after being held underwater.

Isaac reacted immediately. The instant that Scott drew back to breathe, Isaac tangled his hands into Scott’s hair and tugged him back in. Their lips slid over one another as they’d open each other’s mouths. It was slow but forceful. Each kiss lingered. Their lips would stay pressed together for a long pause, they’d break with heavy gasps, and then kiss again. It was like they needed to stay this close to survive. Every second apart was an agony neither of them wanted.

It was a desperate need to be close with Scott pushing him back while Isaac pulled him forward. Isaac still had his hands tangled in Scott’s hair as he leaned backwards. Scott held them both up. He put his weight into one hand that was pushed against the top of the bed comforter while his other remained curled around Isaac’s face. Scott’s eyes were half-lidded when he pulled back far enough to say, “You’re not losing me.”

Isaac tugged him in for another prolonged kiss. When they broke apart, Scott murmured heavily, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Isaac nodded quickly with no words escaping him as he just clung onto Scott, who captured Isaac’s mouth again with his own seconds later. One chapter of Scott’s life had ended. It had been painful at first, but the pages had kept turning, and another chapter was beginning. He didn’t know where it would lead, but he reveled in the sound of Isaac’s heartbeat, the feel of Isaac’s skin underneath his fingertips, and the warmth of Isaac’s breath against his face. If these were the inked words wovened onto the pages, Scott would run the pads of his fingers over their smooth lines and never look away.

* * *

Blood was splashed all across the woods, and snarls both fierce and feral echoed through the trees. The full moon glowed like a spotlight down upon them, revealing every harsh detail of the warzone. Yet, it soon all became a blur of claws, fangs, blood, and pain to Scott. Everything had become twisted, and they found themselves losing to the alphas. Then suddenly Isaac was knocked flat onto his back with Kali towering over him. The claws of her foot dug into his neck as she pressed down. Everyone froze the second a sharp cry was torn for him.

“Cutting down your pack one by one, Derek,” Kali sneered. “I’m keeping my promise. Join us or I’ll kill him.”

Scott’s heart leaped into his throat. The world turned agonizingly still as no one dared to move or hardly breathe. Scott’s attention whipped around to Derek in hope that he had some sort of backup plan. Isaac couldn’t die. Panic surged through Scott as he watched Derek stare at a loss back and forth between Isaac and Kali. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. Kali killed both Boyd and Erica in cold blood. There was nothing stopping her from doing it again. Isaac yelped out again, and every nerve in Scott’s body ignited when he watched in horror as blood trickled down the side of Isaac’s throat.

“ _Stop!_ ”

The anguish rang clear in his voice when Scott twisted around and shouted, and he stared wide-eyed and wild at the alpha. The mocking smile disappeared from Kali, and her face became unnervingly blank and unreadable. She eyed Scott strangely while rolling a thought around through her mind. Something clicked a moment later, and a wide, cruel grin stretched her lips.

“Well, this is a surprise,” Kali slurred all too happily. “Two birds with one stone. If I would have known he was your mate, I would have come after him sooner.”

All eyes were instantly on Scott as surprise and confusion waft through the air. The hair on the back of Scott’s neck rose, and his hands tightened into fists as his attention was fixed on Kali. His claws dug into his palm, and he ignored the small sting it caused. Stiles did a double take between Scott and Isaac before he breathed out a stunned, “Oh my God.”

Scott inhaled a shaky breath. Unlike a lot of people, Kali saw straight through him. His heart sped when he realized how Isaac was probably in more danger now than he was earlier. Scott’s voice was quiet and calculated when he tried to reason, “Kali, please.”

“I had someone too,” Kali pointed out bitterly. “Didn’t stop your friend from killing him. Derek better get on board with you before I lose my patience.”

Kali must have applied more pressure to Isaac’s neck because a wrecked whimper shook from him, and he struggled against her. Scott started forward on instinct, but the raising of Kali’s hand stopped him. The menacing smile was still on her face when she shook her head and waved one of her fingers back and forth disapprovingly. This wasn’t happening. Scott thought desperately, _‘This can’t be happening.’_

* * *

“Scott, we’re almost there,” Stiles told him in a rush as he drove a good fifteen miles over the speed limit. He didn’t need to be a werewolf to sense how much his best friend was losing it. Derek had called Deaton, and they were hurrying to get there to the clinic to save Isaac.

Chris and Allison had shown up to help, and they had all managed to get out of there. They wouldn’t be safe forever, but the fight was over for tonight. Well, it wasn’t over for Isaac. He was lying across Scott’s lap, shaking and looking deathly pale. The slash across his neck wasn’t healing, and he was bleeding out all over the back of the jeep. Scott held his shirt to the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.

“Isaac, hang on,” Scott begged. “You have to hang on. We’re going to get you help.”

Isaac stared up at Scott through a hazy vision. Scott’s name on his lips was the first thing he had uttered since Kali attacked him, and it was the last thing before he became unconscious. Their hands were intertwined over Isaac’s chest. An inky blackness ran through Scott’s veins and slithered up his arms as he took away as much pain as he could from Isaac. He winced and gasped out whenever it grew extensive but didn’t stop.

Derek’s eyes shot up to the rearview mirror, and he warned, “Scott, you’re taking too much.”

“I don’t care,” Scott gritted out. A few black veins appeared on his neck, and it felt like his whole body was burning alive. Scott’s head flung back against the seat, and he cried out whenever another sharp spasm coursed through him.

“You’re killing yourself,” Derek snapped. “There’s no sense in—.”

“Derek,” Stiles gently interrupted. Stiles’s face was pale and knuckles had turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, but Derek noted the pleading and troubled look in his eyes. What Derek was requesting was too much to ask for. Derek glanced at the werewolves in the backseat again, turned back to Stiles, and tightened his fists over his pants legs. He wouldn’t argue it further.

“Hurry,” Derek urged.

Stiles nodded weakly and picked up the jeep’s speed.

* * *

Derek had to take Isaac out of Scott’s arms whenever it became clear that he wasn’t going to make it out of the jeep without collapsing. Scott protested weakly but let Derek take Isaac from him to rush him inside the clinic. Stiles was over at Scott’s side in seconds and was there to catch him before he fell to the pavement. There were tears in Scott’s eyes, Isaac’s blood covering his hands, it’s thick and repulsive stench clogging his nose, and he was shaking uncontrollably.

“Scott.” Stiles’s voice faltered as he had to manhandle his best friend into an upright position. Scott was falling limp in his arms, and Stiles was currently the only thing keeping him steady. Stiles wanted to say more—have some kind of reassuring words—but his mind was blank. So, he went with the next best thing and hugged Scott as close and tight as he could. Tears soaked Stiles’s shirt as Scott wept before he blacked out.

* * *

It was fifteen hours later that Scott got to see him. Isaac had been unconscious for twelve of those hours, and then Deaton had to continue working with him for three hours straight to make sure everything continued to stay positive and not spiral back down. Scott hadn’t left the clinic since what had happened. Stiles, being the wonderful best friend that he was, called Melissa and told her what all was going on so that she wouldn’t fret when she returned home to an empty house. Stiles lied about spending the night at Scott’s house to his dad in order to stay up there at the clinic with him.

Scott had been knocked out for five hours, and Stiles left briefly to get them some food when it was clear he’d be unable to persuade Scott to leave with him whenever he woke up. Derek kept texting Stiles for updates whenever he had left after about an hour of being there to go make sure the alphas weren’t going to spring another attack so soon. Thankfully, they didn’t. Scott tensed and was instantly on his feet the moment that Deaton finally stepped into the room him and Stiles had been waiting in. Deaton had his hands stuffed into his lab coat as he stood in front of the small, wooden fence that separated part of the room.

“He’s lost a lot of blood, but I gave him something to quicken the healing process. It’s a wound from an alpha, so it’s going to take some time. There’s stitches in his neck, and he’s going to have to stay here overnight again,” Deaton calmly explained to them. He clicked open the door on the wooden divider, gave a small smile, and asked, “Do you want to see him?”

Scott just stood there in a drunken daze, and it wasn’t until he felt Stiles’s hand on his back that he shook himself out of it. Scott nodded and took wary steps towards Deaton. He glanced back at Stiles, who hadn’t moved. Stiles waved his cellphone in the air and said, “You go ahead. I’m going to tell Derek what’s going on.”

Scott nodded again and watched his friend exit out the building. Before he continued down to where Isaac was being kept, Deaton reassured fondly, “He’s recovering. It seemed like someone helped him heal before he got here. He’s very fortunate.”

Scott tried to smile, but he still looked profoundly shaken up. He took cautious steps into the room and lingered in the entryway. Isaac was sitting up on the steel table with his legs thrown over the side and hands holding onto the table’s edge in a viselike grip. He was shaking a bit and staring down. There was a white bandage wrapped around his neck that covered the stitches that Deaton talked about.

There was blood that was starting to soak through the gauze, and it made Scott’s stomach lurch at the memory of how much of Isaac’s blood had been all over Stiles’s jeep. Stiles had helped Scott clean himself up the best he could and let him borrow a spare shirt he had in his jeep, but there was still dried blood on his jeans. There was too much of Isaac’s blood everywhere, and Scott remained on edge because of it. Seeing Isaac there in front of him and awake didn’t help him like he thought it would have. He felt like he was hallucinating.

Whenever Isaac spoke, his voice was hoarse and scratchy. It was barely above a whisper when he tried to joke, “I’ve only been sitting up for a minute, and I already feel like passing out again.” He wobbled there for a moment and swallowed thickly before adding, “Or puking.”

The steps Scott took towards him were cautious as his eyes rolled over Isaac as if he had seen a ghost. Isaac lifted his head to watch him. Scott reached a hand out towards Isaac when he neared, paused, and then pulled it back. Isaac gave a sad smile. “I won’t break, you know.”

A shaky, humorless laugh left Scott as he shook his head in obvious disagreement. “You almost died, Isaac,” he reprimanded. “You...”

They fell into a heavy silence. They were both aware of how critical this situation was, and neither of them could really find the words to voice it all, nor did they want to. Isaac frowned and stared at Scott with an almost disbelieving look. There were tears in Scott’s eyes, and he smelled afraid. It was odd and felt so out of place. It was like a lion stripped of his voice, a kicked dog, or a joyless smile much like the one that had appeared and disappeared on Scott’s face a second ago. It wasn’t right. Someone like Scott shouldn’t hold fear and grief, especially not for Isaac’s sake.

Isaac reached out to him whenever he couldn’t with words and nearly toppled over in the process. Scott caught Isaac’s side to steady him, and Isaac was sent into a coughing fit. Isaac’s words were almost lost in the roughness of his voice, but he commented like it would explain everything he had thought, “I’m not as strong as you.”

When Isaac met Scott’s eyes, he almost lost himself in them. They were taking him in, and there was something Isaac couldn’t place that lightened his wet, reddened eyes. There was so much sincerity overpowering Scott’s voice when he spoke that goosebumps formed on Isaac’s skin. “Isaac, you’re one of the strongest people I know.”

They were close and seemed closer now. Scott pressed his forehead against Isaac’s. Their eyes slipped closed as they breathed each other in for a few minutes, taking relief in the lighter and kinder atmosphere that floated between them. Scott leaned forward and brushed their lips together in a not quite there kiss. Isaac’s breath was warm but still reeked of blood. It broke the tender moment when fear struck Scott again. He tried to focus on the herbal scent of whatever Deaton had given Isaac to heal, but it was a struggle Scott didn’t win.

Scott kissed Isaac hard and nearly frantic, needing to feel Isaac alive against him. A shiver ran through Isaac’s body whenever Scott’s tongue licked inside his mouth as if trying to clean away the scent that clung to him. A moan hummed in Isaac’s throat as he kissed him back in full. This was the first kiss that Scott initiated, and Isaac felt like his heart flutter in his chest over it. His body strained whenever he reached up towards Scott, only managing to grab onto the front of his shirt successfully. Scott’s hands were there to balance him though in their embrace.

The pain was starting to flare up again. Isaac was reluctant to pull away and waited as long as he could before he did. His voice was raw whenever he whispered Scott’s name in cue for him to stop. Scott pulled back with eyes half-lidded as he stared down at Isaac’s lips that were now slick and reddened.

“Sorry,” Scott murmured, but leaned back down and kissed along Isaac’s jawline. He was unable to part from Isaac just yet and tried to be as delicate as he could when he kissed him. Isaac shuddered whenever Scott trailed his fingers down Isaac’s bare torso.

A smile stretched Isaac’s lips. The need to be close was mutual, and he felt satisfaction hum through his body at Scott’s affections. “Later,” Isaac promised.

Scott pulled back a bit but remained relatively close. He nodded. “Yeah.”

“ _Uhh._ ”

A voice that came from the entryway of the room pulled both Isaac and Scott from the moment. It was Stiles. There was a hint of amusement in his tone when he commented, “Glad to see you’re better now.”

Isaac looked away in slight embarrassment, but the smile was still on his face. Stiles asked, “So, you guys really are together.”

Scott’s eyes lingered on Isaac for a extended time. They hadn’t talked about the technicalities of what was going on between them. “Yeah,” Scott whispered anyway because that’s what he had thought of the two of them at this point. Saying they were anything less than together sounded like an insult in Scott’s head. When Isaac’s eyes softened and smile remained, Scott knew that Isaac felt the same.

It was official. They were together. The future was uncertain—which was especially evident by Isaac’s current, battered state—but this here and now was secure. This was their private Eden. The tide was coming in, but they’d hold onto each other like they were the strength the other needed. Maybe they were. Maybe they weren’t. All they knew was that they gave each other hope. They loosened the knots in their chests and filled each other with a gentle ease. It was simple. They wanted each other, and that was enough.


End file.
